Days Like Masquerades
by borderfame-sabrestar
Summary: He has to deal with the pain, the beating, the hatred, but through it all Neville knows only one thing really matters to him. Neville/Luna, fluffy 'n cute, songfic, hope you like it.


Hello chums, another little fluffy one that I thought up, in my spare time. I love Luna and Neville and I'm so glad they included it in the last movie – but this is how I always thought they would be, and I think it suits them both so well. They're perfect for each other :) The song used for the inspiration is called Days Like Masquerades (obviously) by Jack's Mannequin and it's a lovely song, and it speaks volumes about being in love and having someone special, and I think it suits these two very well. You can listen to it before or after or whenever or not at all. I hope you enjoy the fic :)

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><p><strong>Days Like Masquerades<strong>

_Neville/Luna_

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><p><em>Hey you, this is me<em>

The reflection seemed odd now that Neville looked at himself, his hands resting on the sink as he stared in the mirror. Through the cuts and the bruises he could see, perhaps, what she had been talking about. He remembered the way he used to look – short, chubby, teeth too big for his mouth, hair which never managed to look good no matter what he did to it. Now, even though he was covered in cuts and his lip was a little swollen, he could see his face and he thought – wow, she's right. I have changed.

_The idealist inside that holds your love on a string,  
>wound and tied like kites to all your hopes and dreams.<em>

His eyes were the same pale green, like his dad's, but his once moon-like cheeks had gone and were replaced by a smooth, strong jaw, a dusting of somewhat manly stubble which he ran his fingertips across, feeling the coarse hair. His eyebrows were heavy, and he noticed them more often now that he was frowning more than he used to. He opened his mouth, grinning at himself before grimacing at his crooked teeth, but at least they didn't appear to be as huge as they once had. His nose was no longer a strange protrusion but now looked like it belonged, though it was a little crooked now it had been broken a few times.

His hair was no longer a strange looking mop, but had a sort of nonchalant grace to it. He touched it, running his fingers through it, watching how it stood up for a moment before falling back down. It wasn't so bad, he thought.

But why would Luna say so? Neville frowned at himself, knowing full well that Luna had not meant anything by it – she said whatever she pleased. But when she had told him he had grown quite handsome, he was surprised. Luna was kind, and smart, and sweet, but she was brutally honest. She wouldn't refrain from letting anybody know when they fell short, but unlike others Luna was always more than willing to help out, not just point out the mistakes. So when Luna told him he was handsome, Neville was trying very hard not to take it to heart, but his heart had already eaten it up, and was beating at an unreasonable pace.

_What a tangled mess that they've turned out to be.  
>Take a breath, and ask yourself what matters.<em>

"Get a hold of yourself," he mumbled at his reflection, before he washed his face over with water and dried the excess on the sleeve of his sweater. He wouldn't be seeing Luna until later on that evening, after dinner. Strictly speaking, she wasn't allowed to be in the castle, but where else could she go? Nobody knew where her father had gone, and she couldn't stay with Aberforth all the time – she'd be found eventually in Hogsmeade. So Luna, like many of the others, had made herself home in the Room of Requirement, happily making beads and cooking strange soups which, despite their unusual ingredients, tasted fantastic. The house elves would visit through a painting in the room, where Luna would get her ingredients, and the house elves loved her for her wonderful manners and willingness to test out their recipes.

Neville couldn't help but half-smile, his lip hurting him as he did so. Luna was so kindhearted, so wonderful. He didn't like it when people said she was weird, even though at first he had thought so himself – no, Luna wasn't weird. She was, in the most fantastic way, completely individual, and if anything she was the opposite of weird because she was so honest and so true to herself, to who she was. She didn't care what others thought, and she was happier for it.

If more people were like Luna, the world would be a better place. But then she wouldn't be nearly so special.

Neville sighed, and chided himself for being so stupid. Luna didn't like him, not in the way he wished she would. He'd feel warm and wonderful every time she would talk to him, or heal his bruises, bandage his cuts. He'd think for a moment that she was paying special attention to him, before he watched her move on to the next person to give them the same precious treatment.

Luna might be special, but Neville wasn't.

_Days like masquerades, silent, hiding in the shadows,  
>Stripped of their disguise, leave you haunted as you scatter.<em>

Neville pushed the bathroom door open and wandered down the Hall, scratching at the back of his neck as he made his way back to the Gryffindor common room. He spent most of his spare time in the Room of Requirement, but today was a weeknight and he had to go back to the common room. It was horribly empty these days – what with Dean missing, Seamus getting detentions every other night simply because he was a half-blood, and Harry and Ron off who knows where, the seventh-year boys room was awful. Neville knew he was only protected by his pure blood status – they couldn't expel him or hurt him too much because of it.

But Seamus was a wreck, and though he was brave, he would always talk back which got him in more trouble. Neville told him he should just stay in the Room of Requirement – others were. Cho Chang and the Creevey brothers were among those who stayed in the Room, simply because they couldn't afford to be students anymore. The half bloods were getting a bad enough time as it were – there weren't any muggle-borns at the school anymore, and those who were stayed in the Room.

Neville frowned. He missed the old Hogwarts. He missed Dumbledore. He missed Harry and Ron and Hermione. He wished it could go back to normal.

As he turned the corner, Neville didn't see or hear a thing before he felt a heavy impact on the back of his head, and before he knew it he was on the floor, and a few moments later he felt hot blood trickle down his neck and began to feel the throbbing pain. His sight blackened at the edges, and he felt someone tug on his sweater and turn him over.

_But you're always on my mind._

"Sorry, Longbottom," a voice sneered. "Didn't see ya there."

Neville knew it was Crabbe or Goyle but he couldn't tell which one. He'd spent so many years not hearing them speak very much at all that their voices sounded the same to him.

"Get off," he said loudly, trying to push the hands from his collar.

Neville glanced at his assailant through his blurred eyes – it was Goyle. He grinned horribly and replied, "I don't think I will. I feel like hitting something and you happened to walk by."

Neville tried not to panic, but the last time Crabbe and Goyle had attacked him he had been unconscious for about seven hours. Unable to reach for his wand, Neville acted quickly, trying to think about what a muggle would do.

He jerked his hands up, fingers outstretched towards Goyle's face, and when he heard a hoarse cry of pain from above him he knew he had found his target. Neville sat up, and stared at Goyle who was holding onto his face, covering his eyes with his hands. Taking his opportunity, Neville scrambled to his feet and ran.

_When you feel lost out at sea,  
>surrounded by on equal sides the same routine.<em>

He only made it to the next corridor before he felt increasingly dizzy, and he began to stumble, holding his hand out to the wall. He ran his other hand on the back of his neck and head, and felt blood soaking his jumper, his skin, matting his hair. It made him feel even worse, and he felt his skin graze on the stone wall as his legs crumpled beneath him.

_Becoming what you swore you'd never be._

If Professor Flitwick hadn't found him, he wondered what might have happened. He knew for sure that the Carrows wouldn't help him, and so many students were preoccupied with saving their own skin to worry about anyone else's.

"Goodness, my boy," said the tiny teacher, and for the first time in his life Neville looked up at the charms professor. "What happened?"

"Oh, you know, the usual," Neville managed with a small smile. "Just – boys being boys –"

They both knew there was no point dobbing Goyle in to Snape, he could care less these days about the way his students behaved, and of course he wouldn't punish a Slytherin.

Flitwick sighed. "Come on, then. Where to? Hospital wing?"

Neville hesitated a moment, before he shook his head. "No, no – the room of Requirement."

Flitwick frowned but nodded. "Very well." A fair few teachers knew about the goings-on in the Room, and were more than happy to keep it secret from Snape. Flitwick was one of them. However, it was on the seventh floor, and for a moment, Neville wondered how Flitwick expected him to get him there on his own – but a moment later, Neville found himself lying on a charmed stretcher which Flitwick had made appear, and the next thing Neville remembered was being hoisted up by the stout Seamus, and taken into the Room of Requirement.

He didn't recall much from that point on – he remembered a rush of worried voices, whispers and countless people asking if he was okay. He didn't remember what his response was. He saw Ginny and Cho talking, their faces etched with worry, and there was an awful lot of black in his memory. It was patchy.

And when he found his eyes opening slowly, like heavy gates, he took a moment to focus and to take in all the colours, and realise how quiet it was. He saw, then, as he lay sideways, striped pants, blue sneakers with the laces undone as she stood beside his makeshift bed. He looked up past her bright yellow shirt, to the long, messy blonde hair which fell over her shoulders like a graceful waterfall, her kind blue eyes shimmering and her small teeth perfectly white against her pink lips as she smiled at him.

_Don't distress,  
>there's a big bright place if you stay close to me.<em>

"Hello, Neville," her soft voice said as she knelt beside the bed, a cloth in her hand. She reached out to touch his forehead with her other hand, while she continued to clean the dried blood from his neck and hair.

"Luna," Neville managed, his voice dry and rasping. He cleared his throat. "Luna, where is everyone?"

"Snape called a meeting," said Luna, "And Aberforth is getting all the others to help set up the new wireless transmitter, in his house. It's a big job – lots of people listen to the Potterwatch radio now, you know. It's quite good."

Neville felt a smile creep on his lips, exhaling gently as he felt her soft hands on his skin. "How – how long have I been out?"

"About two hours," said Luna, before she stared upwards and thought for a moment. "No, maybe two and a bit."

"That's not so bad," Neville mumbled. "Could be worse."

"That's the spirit," said Luna with a smile. Neville watched her as she gently pulled the rug up over him, brushed the hair back from his face and said she'd be back in a moment with food. He watched her beautiful hands on the rug, watched her beautiful lips talking to him, speaking words. He was so numb. She was just like a drug to him. Nothing else mattered, the pain was gone, the hurting was gone. Luna fixed everything.

_Take a breath, and I'll show you what matters._

Neville didn't know what made him do it but he said, interrupting her, "Luna, do you love me?"

She blinked, but replied without hesitation. "Of course I love you, Neville."

He felt a stupid, dopey smile creep onto his face, and he leaned up on his elbows, so they were eye to eye. He stared at her, and she waited patiently for him to say something, but instead he moved towards her, and gently placed his lips against hers, and Neville felt Luna gasp.

He had shocked Luna, and he hadn't ever done that before. Nothing surprised Luna. But here he was, and Neville felt somewhat smug beneath the rush of other emotions, which included (but wasn't restricted to) love, wonder, happiness, exhilaration and excitement. Neville lifted his hand and touched her hair, before his fingertips touched her cheek and he felt her warm skin, smooth against his palm.

_You're always on my mind._

Neville didn't know long how long it lasted for – it felt like forever though it could have been a few seconds. He pulled away, opening his eyes in time to see hers open, too, her long eyelashes fluttering prettily as she did so. She looked at him with big eyes of blue, and finally she breathed out, and opened her lips to speak.

"Neville –"

"Do you know that nothing else matters when I'm with you?" Neville murmured, cutting her off once more. He felt rude and horrible, he never interrupted Luna, but he had to speak or he'd lose the words, he'd never feel this brave again. Luna gazed at him as he spoke, and he brushed a strand of wavy hair back from her face, tucking it behind her ear, letting his hand linger against her skin as he spoke. "I don't think I'd be able to survive this place without you."

"But you're a Gryffindor," said Luna, her soft voice so much lovelier when she was so close to him. "You're brave. You can do anything."

Neville felt a smile tug at his lips. "But I want to be here because of you. You make everything okay, you know? I could feel so, totally lost – I get punched, kicked, spat on, but you know when it happens, I think of you? And it's all okay, because I know you'll be here for me."

Luna's eyes danced for a moment, flicking from his eyes to his hair, to his mouth, his neck, his chest, his eyes and his mouth once more, before she reached out and grasped Neville's face with her small hands and she kissed him again, her lips eagerly caressing his as Neville let his arms wrap around her middle, pulling her closer to him until she overbalanced and fell on him, but it didn't matter because her hair was everywhere, in Neville's hands and tickling his neck, they kissed like they needed each other to breathe and Luna was everything Neville knew in that moment. Nothing else mattered.

"Hey, you two!"

They both suddenly froze, Luna rigid in Neville's arms as their eyes opened and they stared at each other, frightened for a moment before Luna smiled and sat up straight, her hair falling away from her face.

Ginny stared at them both, eyes wide as she shook her head. "Merlin's knickers, do you two mind? At least find a less – communal room!"

Luna smiled, and before Neville knew it they were both laughing, Luna giggling into her hand and Neville's stomach hurting from laughing too much.

"Sorry, Ginny," said Neville.

"Yes, we're awfully sorry," echoed Luna. "We were – we were just –"

Ginny put up her hand to stop Luna. "Don't wanna know!" To Neville's relief, when she looked at them again, she rolled her eyes but a small smile showed on her lips. "I'm not angry, I just thought you should know that everybody is coming back from the Hall now. So…"

"Yes, okay, we've stopped," said Neville, unable to stop grinning like an idiot. "Shall we pretend I'm still on my deathbed?"

"I don't care if you keep snogging her," said Ginny. "Just take it somewhere else, for goodness' sake."

Ginny wandered out of the room, red hair flying out behind her as she walked back out to go to the common room. Neville sat up beside Luna, and wrapped his arm around her shoulder, bringing her close to him.

"Can we kiss again sometime?" Luna asked politely, smiling gently at Neville. He replied by tipping her chin up with his hand and placing a soft, chaste kiss on her lips.

_Days like masquerades, take a breath and feel what matters._


End file.
